


Wet

by Sidoh



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Crying, Desperation, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Mild Dub-con?, Omorashi, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9851855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidoh/pseuds/Sidoh
Summary: They're on a road trip and Yoosung needs to pee. Seven isn't helpful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for how absolutely rubbish I am at coming up with good titles. 
> 
> Here's some Seven/Yoosung omorashi that I needed to get out of my system. I was going to make it sweet and accessible but then I just had to throw in humiliation and it turned out a little different. This was originally inspired by the road trip they go on during Yoosung's route (I think) but then turned into a random road trip with no references to canon.

Seven suppresses a yawn as his fingers jab at the keyboard of his laptop. The deadline for this job is still two days away, but since the back seat is taken and Seven’s too fussy and irregular of a sleeper to be able to sleep in a car anyway, he figures he might as well do something useful. 

Yoosung moans softly and stirs in his sleep. Seven watches him from the corner of his eye and smiles. His lips are slightly parted, and blond strands of hair fall across his face. When he suddenly blinks, Seven quickly turns his head back towards his screen, realising how long he’s been staring. “Good morning sunshine!” 

“What time is it?” Yoosung mumbles, rubbing his eyes. Seven manages to sneak a quick glance and concludes that half-asleep, groggy Yoosung might be even cuter than peacefully asleep Yoosung. “What are you doing?”

“Working. It’s only three o'clock. Go back to sleep.”

Yoosung sighs and lies back down, but his breathing never quite returns to a calm rhythm that would suggest he’s falling back asleep. When he starts to move around restlessly, Seven looks up. “What’s wrong? Need Uncle Luciel to sing you a lullaby?”

Yoosung pulls a face. “Never call yourself that, please.”

“Ah, but I would be such a cool uncle. I would build my nieces and nephews a gigantic spaceship instead of a lame tree house!” Seven muses. “Seriously though, get some more sleep. It’s the middle of the night.”

Yoosung actually tries for a while, but his body doesn’t seem to agree. While Seven works and occasionally watches as Yoosung’s tossing and turning slowly turns into fidgeting, he starts to get a hunch as to what is keeping Yoosung awake. When Yoosung slowly sits up and starts to jiggle his legs in what looks like a sitting-down version of the pee dance people do when they’re desperate for the bathroom, his suspicions get confirmed. 

“I can’t sleep,” Yoosung says in the end, his voice slightly panicked. “Can’t we just go, if you’re not going to sleep?”

“I told you, my eyes aren’t good enough to drive through a forest at night,” Seven says. Admittedly, he’s exaggerating the facts a little because Yoosung seemed exhausted but couldn’t sleep while they were moving. “I may be God Seven, but my supernatural racing powers only activate by sunlight. I’m not going to crash with a cutie in my car.”

Yoosung’s already flustered face turns an even darker shade of pink. Seven closes his laptop and puts it away, his curiosity piqued now that the situation seems to be much more urgent than he suspected before. Yoosung is like a little puppy sometimes, but he’s still a grown man. Seven figured he would be able to hold his pee for a few hours, but the way Yoosung’s knuckles are turning white as he grips onto the seat suggests otherwise. 

“Yoosung, why can’t you sleep?” 

Yoosung looks at him with big, desperate eyes. “I really have to pee,” he finally admits. 

Seven reaches up and turns on the light, unable to see what’s going on now that the laptop is no longer illuminating Yoosung’s face. Yoosung seems too preoccupied with fighting to keep control over his body to notice or question it. 

“When was the last time you went to the bathroom?” 

“Um…” It must be taking Yoosung so much concentration to stop himself from wetting himself there and then that his ability to think is suffering. His entire body is tense with the fear of moving so much as an inch and accidentally relaxing the wrong muscles. “After lunch, I think.” 

“That’s a long time ago. You must be bursting by now.” Seven isn’t sure whether the slight bit of genuine worry in his voice is enough to cover up his perverted interest in Yoosung’s desperation. 

It’s not that Seven is a mean person or that he wants Yoosung to suffer because he doesn’t like him. He’s always had a tendency to tease those he likes the most. It’s almost comparable to pulling pigtails, except Seven is an adult and is fully aware that his teasing sometimes borders on sadistic. He’s never seen Yoosung look more perfect than this—helplessly squirming and fighting a losing battle against the inevitable, humiliating reality of wetting himself in front of Seven—and Seven doesn’t want it to end.

“Why didn’t you go earlier?”

“I didn’t realise we wouldn’t stop again until it was dark!” Yoosung glances at the pitch black forest. “And before I went to sleep it wasn’t bad enough to go out _there_ , but now I really don’t think I’ll make it if I don’t…”

There’s a reason Yoosung is Seven’s favourite person to tease, and it’s that he’s too cute for his own good. “Are you afraid of the dark?”

“No!” Yoosung says unconvincingly. “But there’s a difference between normal darkness and this, okay? Aren’t there wild animals around here?”

Seven knows what he’s about to do is downright evil, but he can’t stop himself. “Yeah, there are boars around here. This time of year they’ll have young, too, so they’re really aggressive when they try to protect them from people.”

“Really?” Yoosung’s voice cracks. “But I don’t know what to...”

“The boars are especially active at night. They’re also attracted to the smell of pee.” Seven says, feigning concern. “You really can’t go outside.”

A little whine escapes from the back of Yoosung’s throat. “But I can’t _hold_ it anymore.” He looks up at Seven with watery eyes. 

Seven shrugs and retrieves a nearly empty bottle of water from the inside of the door. “I can finish this,” he offers under the pretence of being helpful. “Then you can pee in the bottle.” 

He opens the cap and raises the bottle to his lips. As soon as he turns it upside down and the sloshing sound of running water echoes through the car, Yoosung yelps. “Seven, don’t—!” His hands fly to his crotch and his eyes widen in shock. 

For a moment, Seven refuses to believe that it actually did the trick. Then he notices. In between Yoosung’s trembling thighs, a small, perfectly round wet spot has formed. It’s almost impressive that Yoosung has managed to stop the flow again when he’s so desperate.

Seven silently thanks the heavens that Yoosung is wearing light blue jeans. He almost can’t decide whether he'd rather look at the little wet spot or at Yoosung's mortified, flustered face. “You can hold it,” he tells him, even though he doesn’t want him to. He should probably be more concerned about his car at this point, but it’s Seven’s practical back-up car anyway. He only uses it when he needs a car with a back seat, and it’s not nearly as pretty as his other babies. Watching this scene play out in front of him is more than worth soiling it. “You’re not going to wet yourself like a child, are you?”

Yoosung squeezes his eyes shut and a tear of embarrassment falls down his cheek. “I am…” He whispers, his voice shaking. “I can’t…” His entire body is trembling with the strain of trying to hold it in, but it’s futile. Before he can even finish his sentence, the wet spot between his legs starts to darken and spread. 

Seven almost unconsciously rests his hand on the growing bulge in his jeans. It takes him a moment to realise how slowly the dark patch is spreading and how tense Yoosung still looks. “Stop fighting it,” he says. As much as he enjoys watching Yoosung squirm, he wants to see what he looks like when he gives up and lets go, too. “You already ruined your jeans and the seat. You won’t be able to go outside or hold it until the morning. You might as well let it all out now.”

With every word, Yoosung’s muscles involuntarily relax, his resolve weakening. Finally, he buries his face in his hands and gives in with a choked sob. 

There’s so much of it. Long before it completely soaks Yoosung's crotch, it starts to trickle down his leg, forming a dark stripe all the way down to his ankle where it drips on the floor. Between his thighs, Seven can see the fabric of the seat starting to darken as it’s soaked through with Yoosung’s pee until it’s so saturated that a small puddle starts to form on the surface. When the seemingly endless flow of urine finally stops and the car is filled with the penetrating smell of it, Yoosung is openly crying and Seven is so hard he might explode. 

“Yoosung?”

“Don’t,” Yoosung protests weakly when Seven climbs over to the back seat. 

“Ssh.” Seven pulls Yoosung close, and lets him bury his face in his chest. “It’s alright.”

Yoosung sniffles against his shirt. “I’m sorry about your car.” 

“It’s okay, really. It’s my fault,” Seven admits, running his fingers through Yoosung's hair. He wonders whether he feels the urge to take care of Yoosung to make up for letting him suffer, or if he made Yoosung go through all that just so he could comfort him afterwards. He decides it must be some weird combination of both. “I don't know anything about boars.” 

“What?” Yoosung momentarily forgets about his embarrassment and looks up at Seven with eyes full of confusion and a hint of betrayal. “Why would you…” 

Seven presses his lips against Yoosung’s cheek. “You liked it,” he says, moving on to kiss Yoosung properly, the faint taste of salt from his tears still on his lips. A surprised little sound escapes Yoosung when Seven’s lips find his, but he doesn’t protest. “You liked wetting yourself for me like a baby.” 

Yoosung shakes his head but gasps when Seven’s hand presses against his erection through the soaked material of his jeans. “What is this, then?” Seven pulls out Yoosung’s damp cock. He wraps his hand around it and simultaneously rubs his own erection through his clothes. “Are you that much of an M? Do you like being embarrassed?”

Yoosung bucks his hips, thrusting into Seven’s hand. “I...I don’t know,” he says honestly.

“It’s alright.” Seven kisses Yoosung again as his hand around Yoosung’s cock speeds up. Watching Yoosung hump into his hand with his soaked jeans pushed down to his thighs, Seven needs very little friction before he feels himself getting close. “I’ll take care of you. Maybe we’ll just need to put you in a diaper next time.” 

Yoosung shakes his head hard, but a moment later Seven’s hand feels hot and sticky as Yoosung moans and thrusts into his fist. Watching the humiliating words push him over the edge like that, Seven squeezes his own cock one more time and comes in his jeans. 

Seven doesn’t have any spare jeans or underwear to offer Yoosung, but he gently peels off Yoosung's wet clothes and drapes his hoodie over his lap to cover him up as he settles into the dry passenger seat. 

“Seven?” Yoosung asks when the sun finally starts to come up and they’re getting ready to go. “Are you ever going to tell me what M means?”

Seven hands Yoosung a full water bottle before he starts the car. “I will explain it to you if you’re a good boy and drink all of that before we get home,” he promises with a smirk. “It’s important to re-hydrate after all that.”

Yoosung hesitates for just a moment before nodding and taking a first sip.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://sidohfic.tumblr.com/) (nsfw)


End file.
